


Water Method

by Spoon888



Series: Twitter Warm Up Prompt Fills [18]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Sex, Improper Use Of A Shower Head, Inconsiderate Love Making, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Property Destruction, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27760357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Starscream's pursuit of personal pleasure leads to something of a plumbing disaster.
Relationships: Megatron/Starscream (Transformers)
Series: Twitter Warm Up Prompt Fills [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719604
Comments: 16
Kudos: 170





	Water Method

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueskyscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskyscribe/gifts).



Starscream felt like an abused chew-toy, pinned flat to the berth by his wings under Megatron, legs hitched up over wide hip-plates to keep him open and defenceless to gunformers relentless, unchivalrous pounding. 

Sure, Megatron could charm and seduce with the best of them when it suited _him_ , when _he_ was in the mood to indulge his shamelessly perverted interest in Starscream's flight assets, but those occasions were becoming rarer. It was clear Megatron had no interest tonight in anything but getting himself off. Starscream should have known what he'd be in for when the brute had beckoned him over to the berth with a crass grunt of "c'mere."

' _C'mere_?' Starscream thought to himself resentfully, wincing in discomfort when the vigorous pace jumped up a gear into hammering before his poor valve had a hope of catching up. Honestly, _C'mere_?

He was only surprised by the lack of accompanying slap on the aft. Where had his standards disappeared to over the last four-million years? He was descended from the highest of war-castes, from _royalty_ , and here he was being used like a toy for the pleasure of a lazy old fool who couldn't even be bothered to give him a token finger-blast before plugging in. Chivalry was dead, and it was buried six feet under alongside Starscream's rotting self respect. 

He glared up at Megatron, wondering if his complete apathy towards this subpar session would go completely unnoticed. 

Probably, he realised, as he watched Megatron throw his head back and shutter his optics, mouth dropping open to moan. 

It had been a miserably long five minutes, but five minutes was all it had been. Megatron's hips snapped forward in that telling way Starscream had come to associate with him being about to overload. Megatron held deep and worked his hips in a slow grinding figure eight, savouring the welcoming grip of his second's valve. It was the _only_ thing he'd done so far that had done anything for Starscream. It touched at that little something at his core, the sensors lining the very end of his valve that when brushed, sent ripples of pleasure outwards, curled his toe pedes, tied his tanks up in knots. He shuddered and locked his legs around Megatron's waist encouragingly, cycling down hard, valve finally starting to get into it-

That was all it took for Megatron. He overloaded with grunt, stilling after a handful of selfishly fierce thrusts, jabbing away at that tiny scrap of pleasure Starscream had been feeling until he made it ache in the wrong way. Starscream glared up at the ceiling as Megatron used his internals as a dumping ground before withdrawing concomitantly and flopping heavily to the side.

The only thing that stopped him from drawing a knife from his subspace and _castrating_ Megatron right then and there was the belated, lazy kiss the warlord pressed to his shoulder-vent before rolling away. It was nothing. It was hardly gratitude. But it was unguarded affection from Megatron, and Starscream didn't have any effective defence against it. 

His shoulder was still tingling when a deep exhale of breath signalled Megatron drifting off to recharge next to him. And ...that was it for the evening it seemed. 

"Bastard," Starscream muttered, sitting up with a frown. 

He ached; his thighs, his lower back, his belly- all of them protesting the abuse Megatron had just performed on his valve. His leader wasn't a small mech and though neither was he, there was a size disparity between them, _and_ between their arrays. He simply wasn't built to take such punishment. He was seeker. And those lucky enough to bed a seeker should know to indulge them. 

Megatron seemed to think that because Starscream had surrendered to fidelity for him he no longer had to make the effort. 

Although Megatron's tactless pounding had done next to nothing for him, the act of interfacing still left him with the maddening sense of lingering charge. He was also still wet, as evidenced by the unpleasant but familiar shift of fluids displacing when he had sat up. He was hardly going to lie in the damp spot waiting for it all to congeal into a horrifying mess, so it was the perfect excuse to use his leader's personal wash-racks. 

Despite the apparent perks of being Supreme Commander, Megatron's personal quarters were't all that impressive. His living space was only fractionally larger than anyone else's, and his berth -standard size and length- had just as many suspicious dents and scratches on it as those in the air barracks. The disappointing accommodations extended to the private wash-racks, which was actually more of a renovated cupboard. It had one standard shower-head -detachable- and a drain in the floor. No extravagant oil bath. No luxurious drying system. Just a shower. 

One advantage though? Was that it was private. 

The other? The _water pressure_. 

Starscream turned the temperature gauge towards the deepest red and tipped his helm up to receive the rush of solvent-water dilution that cascaded over him. Divine. He turned and let it run over the backs of his wings, the pressure feeling like a gentle massage. 

In order to clean up properly he detached the shower-head from it's cradle and brought it down between his legs. Undignified though it may be, it was still the only way to perform a thorough cleaning of his internal array. There was nothing worse than the smell of day old lubricant. 

But even he wasn't immune to the valve sensors' natural response to heat and pressure. He indulged himself a little, keeping the stream focused on his intimate parts long after he was clean, feeling his frame start to inevitably heat up. 

He had done it before, once or twice, just a little play to take the edge off. And what was the harm? Megatron was asleep. He'd had _his_ overload, selfish clunker. It was only fair. If there was no hot water for him come morning then Starscream supposed it would only serve him right. 

He reached down, parting exterior folds with two fingers and exposing his node, angling the shower-head so the stream of water hit it dead on. Oh, and it was heavenly. He braced a hand against the tiled wall and brought the shower-head closer, till the jet of pressurised water almost hurt. He bit his lip, bringing the shower-head down and changing the angle so the water was firing upwards, into him.

He lost himself to decadent fantasies of Megatron doing his fragging _job_ for once, of his face nestled between white thighs, a wide, flat tongue lapping at Starscream's folds, slipping deeper, swirling and plunging and wriggling, of his lips closing over his throbbing node and sucking-

The hose of the shower went taunt, and with a growl od impatient irritation at reality interrupting his fantasy, Starscream yanked on it. 

And ripped the entire shower clean out the wall, pipes, tiles and all. Water exploded from a now open main pipe and knocked Starscream back against the opposite wall. He yelped in shock, shoving a fist into his mouth a second later to muffle himself. Megatron was asleep. He needed him to _stay_ asleep whilst he fixed this!

Water was gushing from the pipes, flooding the room faster that the tiny drain in the floor could take it away. It was already past Starscream's thrusters and likely leaking out under the door and into the berth room. 

"Slag-!" Starscream hissed, his legs still tangled in the damn shower hose. He held out his hands to try and stop the highly pressurised jet of water from hitting him in the face, sending water spraying everywhere, as he searched for the shut off valve. 

And there wasn't one! Typical! Fragging idiot Constructicons! 

Hot and flushed, soaked down to his protoform, and tangled in the shower hose, Starscream could see no other way out of it. He was going to have to pin this on someone _else_. 

...How likely was Megatron to believe that Skywarp had teleported into his private wash-racks and ripped the plumbing straight out of the wall in a misguided prank gone wrong? 

With his moronic trine-mate's track-record? Very likely. 

He flicked his panel shut and stumbled out of the wash-rack, kicking the shower hose loose as he cried in a falsely enraged voice, "Megatron, wake up! You'll never guess who just attacked me in the shower!" 

Megatron's response, rather unsurprisingly, was a sigh muffled by the pillows. 

Starscream scowled. Imagine if he _had_ just been attacked in the shower?! 

Chivalry was indeed dead. 


End file.
